Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

She shattered.

Screaming his name, her entire body convulsing, the orgasm so intense she couldn’t breathe.

Dimitri kept moving, kept pounding into her, extending the pleasure until she was begging him to stop.

Then he flipped her over.

”On your hands and knees.”

Eve barely had the strength to comply, but she did, positioning herself for him.

Dimitri grabbed her hips, thrust back inside from behind.

This angle let him go even deeper, and Eve’s arms gave out, her face pressing into the pillows.

”Look at you,” Dimitri said, his voice rough with possession. ”Taking my cock so perfectly. Made for me. Only for me.”

”Only you,” Eve agreed, her voice muffled by the pillow.

He fucked her harder, one hand sliding around to find her clit.

”Come again,” he demanded. ”I want to feel you come on my cock.”

”I can’t.....too much....”

”Yes, you can.” He circled her clit with perfect pressure. ”You can do anything I ask. Because you trust me. Because you’re mine. Because we’re perfect together.”

He was using pleasure like a weapon, and Eve was helpless against it.

She came again, sobbing his name into the pillow, her body clenching around him rhythmically.

This time, Dimitri followed her over the edge.

Roaring her name, spilling inside her, marking her from the inside out.

They collapsed together, both gasping, sweat-slicked and trembling.

For long minutes, neither spoke. Just lay there, hearts pounding, breathing evening out.

Finally, Dimitri rolled onto his side, pulled Eve against his chest.

”I love you,” he murmured into her hair. ”More than anything in this world. I need you to know that.”

”I know.” Eve’s voice was soft, exhausted. ”I love you too.”

”And you trust me? To protect you? To keep you safe?”

Eve was quiet for a moment.

Then: ”Yes. I trust you.”

Dimitri closed his eyes, relief flooding through him.

She believed him.

The lie had worked.

And the guilt that should have crushed him felt almost... justified.

Because if lying kept her safe, if lying kept her with him, if lying meant she trusted him enough to let him protect her....

Then it was worth it.

Wasn’t it?

***

Dimitri lay awake long after Eve’s breathing evened out in sleep.

He’d lied to her face.

Used sex to reinforce that lie.

Made her promise to trust him while actively deceiving her.

And she’d believed him.

Or at least, she’d said she did.

But he’d felt the hesitation. The moment before she’d answered ”yes” when he’d asked if she trusted him.

That brief pause that said her mind was warring with her heart.

He was losing her trust.

Slowly. Incrementally. But losing it nonetheless.

And the worst part was, he didn’t know how to stop.

Because telling her the truth...that Lorenzo had plans to ”remove” her, that investigators had been building profiles on her routines, that her life had been in active danger, would terrify her.

Would make her want to fight back.

And fighting back would put her directly in Lorenzo’s crosshairs.

So he kept lying.

Kept hiding the truth.

Kept using their connection...their love, their physical intimacy to maintain the illusion that everything was fine.

But for how long?

How long before she found out? Before someone slipped? Before the carefully constructed house of cards collapsed?

And when it did....when Eve discovered the full scope of what he’d been hiding....

Would she forgive him?

Or would this be the thing that finally broke them?

Dimitri tightened his arms around her sleeping form.

He couldn’t lose her.

Wouldn’t lose her.

Even if keeping her meant lying to her.

Even if protecting her meant damaging the trust between them.

Even if loving her meant becoming the kind of man who used pleasure as manipulation.

He’d do it.

All of it.

Because a world without Eve Thorne wasn’t a world worth living in.

And if that made him a monster...

Well.

They called him the Devil for a reason.

***

POV: NONNA

Sophia sat in the kitchen, sipping her tea, listening to the silence from the bedroom.

She’d heard them come in. Heard the tension in their voices. Heard the bedroom door close.

And now, hours later, she heard nothing.

Which could mean they’d reconciled.

Or it could mean they’d exhausted themselves avoiding the real conversation.

She suspected the latter.

Dimitri was lying to that girl.

Sophia could see it in his eyes. In the way he held himself. In the careful way he phrased things. ℴ

He was keeping secrets.

And Eve....bless her, she was too trusting, was choosing to believe him.

For now.

But Sophia had lived long enough to know that lies always came out.

Always.

And when they did, when Eve discovered that Dimitri had been hiding threats and making deals and treating her like a child instead of a partner...

The fallout would be catastrophic.

Sophia just hoped they both survived it.

She finished her tea, rinsed the cup, and headed to her room.

Whatever was coming, it would come.

All she could do was be there to pick up the pieces when it did.

And pray that the pieces could be put back together.

****

POV: ISABELLA

Isabella sat in her new hotel suite...smaller, more isolated, a gilded cage on the outskirts of the city, staring at her laptop screen.

Three days since Dimitri had made her sign that contract.

Three days of playing the obedient, contained, harmless ex-fiancée.

Three days of pretending she’d accepted defeat.

But Isabella Russo had not spent fourteen years preparing to be Dimitri Valentino’s wife only to give up now.

She just needed to be smarter. More careful. More strategic.

Which meant she needed opportunities.

Moments where she could be near Dimitri without violating the terms of her agreement.

Public events where her presence would be expected, unremarkable, perfectly innocent.

Isabella opened a secure messaging app, typed a message to one of her contacts...a woman who specialized in high-society access, the kind of person who could get anyone into any event for the right price.

I need a list of upcoming charity galas, business functions, and exclusive events in the city. Specifically events that Dimitri Valentino is confirmed or likely to attend. And I need invitations.

The response came within minutes.

That’s a tall order. Valentino doesn’t publicize his schedule. But I can find out. Cost?

Name your price.

50K for the information. Another 50K per invitation.

Isabella didn’t hesitate. Done. I want the list within 48 hours.

You’ll have it in 24.

Isabella closed the laptop, stood, moved to the windows.

Somewhere out there, Dimitri was with Eve. Probably holding her, kissing her, fucking her.

While Isabella sat here alone, plotting from the shadows like some desperate villain in a tragic opera.

But she wasn’t desperate.

She was strategic.

And she had resources Dimitri didn’t know about.

Like the girl.

Isabella pulled out her phone, dialed a number.

It rang twice before a cool, professional voice answered.

”Signorina Russo.”

”Catarina. I need you here. Now.”

”Of course. Twenty minutes.”

Isabella ended the call, poured herself a glass of wine, and waited.

Exactly twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door.

Isabella opened it to find Catarina standing there....late twenties, unremarkable features, the kind of face that blended into any crowd. She wore simple black clothing, carried a small leather bag, and had eyes that were sharp, intelligent, and absolutely cold.

”Come in,” Isabella said.

Catarina entered, set down her bag, waited.

This was what made her valuable. She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t offer opinions. Just executed orders with ruthless efficiency.

Ads by PubFuture ”I have a task for you,” Isabella said. ”A sensitive one.”

”I assumed as much.”

”I need you to acquire something from the black market. A pharmaceutical. Very specific. Very controlled.”

Isabella pulled out a piece of paper, wrote down the name of the drug in precise letters.

Compound X-7 (Aphrodisiac-Class Stimulant)

She handed it to Catarina, who read it without expression.

”This is highly illegal,” Catarina said calmly. ”And extremely difficult to source.”

”I’m aware.”

”The only suppliers are in Eastern Europe. Shipping it here will be complicated. Expensive. Dangerous.”

”I don’t care about complicated. I don’t care about expensive. I care about getting it. Can you do it?”

Catarina studied the paper for another moment. ”Yes. But it will take time. Two weeks minimum. Possibly three.”

”You have ten days.”

”That’s...”

”Ten days, Catarina. I’ll pay triple your usual rate. But I need it in ten days.”

Catarina folded the paper, tucked it into her jacket. ”What dosage?”

”Enough for one person. Adult male. Approximately six-four, two hundred pounds.”

”And the delivery method?”

”That’s my concern. You just get me the compound.”

”Understood.” Catarina moved toward the door, paused. ”Signorina Russo. If I may...this particular compound is... potent. The side effects are severe. Once administered, the only way to alleviate the symptoms is through...”

”Sexual release. I know.” Isabella’s voice was cold. ”That’s the point.”

Catarina’s expression didn’t change. ”Of course. I’ll be in touch when I have it.”

She left as quietly as she’d arrived.

Isabella stood alone in the suite, her heart racing.

The plan was forming. Slowly. Carefully.

She’d get invited to an event Dimitri would attend. Something public. Formal. Where everyone would be dressed beautifully, drinking champagne, playing their roles.

She’d find a moment. A opportunity. A brief window where she could slip the compound into his drink.

And then...

Then Dimitri Valentino would need relief. Desperately. Uncontrollably. The kind of physical need that overrode logic and control and everything else.

And Isabella would be there.

Offering herself.

Reminding him of what they could have been.

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t love.

But it was strategy.

And in her world, strategy was all that mattered.

Isabella finished her wine, was pouring a second glass when her hotel room door flew open.

She spun, heart leaping into her throat...

Enzo stood in the doorway, his face flushed with anger, his eyes blazing.

”What the fuck are you doing, Isabella?”